Issue 221, Summer 2017
Each of us is also a ghost.
Most you can see.
They look like the person you are.
Hers is a series of beautiful blurred action
Images of an antelope attacking and killing
And eating a fully grown alpha lion.
The lion’s broken head
Sticks out of his mane on the pillow, bloody red, almost dead,
And then the reactor exploded, typical of love.
Hello, hello, hello, hello.
I’m here, it’s me, hello. I’m my ghost.
I’m the heavenly piercing freshness of no pain after your pain.
I’m the soft perfume of warm August rain.
I’m the rope of distance that ties me to you
That makes no sense, but I do, and it does.
I want to be huge,
And a deluge, and a refuge.
I want to be your forever voice message.